


Holding His Leash

by trill_gutterbug



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, Chastity, Cock Cages, Collars, D/s, Kylo Ren is a big fucking sub pass it on, M/M, Orgasm Denial, non-con, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trill_gutterbug/pseuds/trill_gutterbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This,” Hux said, leaning in so he could spit it low and sharp near Kylo’s ear, “is my property. You don’t tell me when to unlock it or remove it. It stays where it is, because that’s where I want it to be. Comply, or you will dislike the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mollynoble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollynoble/gifts).



> This is for mollynoble, whom I cruelly tripped headfirst into the TFA trashbin, and who handed me this idea on a silver platter.

“General…”

Hux paused with one foot on the shuttle ramp. He didn’t quite smirk, because there were already three troopers waiting for him inside the shuttle and he didn’t want to give them any ideas, but it was a near thing. When Kylo started speaking with audible ellipses, Hux’s day was invariably about to improve.

He pivoted on one heel, locking his hands neatly in the small of his back. “Ren?”

Kylo was shrouded head to foot, mask shiny and cowl carefully layered around it, like he’d spent ten minutes fiddling at it in front of a mirror. Hux took him in head to toe, and didn’t miss the way Kylo’s fists were curled at his sides and his feet were at angles to one another, rather than firmly planted.

Kylo’s gloves creaked as his fists tightened. “A word.” His voice was low, the mask’s distortion nearly obliterating it altogether.

Hux’s mouth tried to smirk again, but he overcame it. “I’m afraid I’m already running behind schedule, Ren. Perhaps you could discuss this with me over the appropriate channels while I am en route.” He shifted to turn back to the shuttle, and was rewarded by Kylo lurching a step toward him, automatic. Desperate.

Hux hesitated, lifting a brow, as though taken aback. The set of Kylo’s shoulders was nothing short of mortified. “Please,” he said quietly, like he was speaking through ground glass. “In private. A word.”

Hux watched him for a long moment, enjoying himself. He sighed. “Well, if it’s really  _that_ important.” He stepped down off the ramp and crooked a finger, beckoning Kylo after him. Kylo’s boots thumped the decking as he followed, but for once he hung back at Hux’s heels, rather than insisting on being at Hux’s side. Hux briefly considered forcing Kylo to speak to him in the crowded docking bay, for maximum discomfiture, but he hadn’t been lying about running behind schedule; Kylo had left this conversation much longer than Hux had expected him to.

They went out through a small side door and into a relatively private hallway. There were troopers twenty feet away, but they were otherwise occupied and knew better than to eavesdrop on the business of superiors.

He turned to Kylo, smiling as pleasantly as he knew how. “How may I help you, Ren?”

Kylo said nothing for an instant, just breathing hard through the mask’s faint electronic rasp. The length of his body was tense as a wound spring, nearly trembling. “You can’t leave me like this,” he said at last.

Hux let his smirk happen this time, unfurling slow and sly as a carnivorous flower at dusk. “Why, Ren,” he murmured. “I had no idea--”

Kylo cut a hand through the air. “You know what I mean.” He took a step forward, this time deliberately. Hux didn’t bother squaring his own shoulders in response; of the two of them, Kylo was the one at a disadvantage and they both knew it. “You can’t leave me in this state.”

Hux felt his smirk spread even wider. “Can I not?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Hux laughed. He couldn’t help it. Kylo sounded so petulant, so sure of himself. “If there is one thing I do not lack, Ren, it is daring.”

Kylo took another step, and although they were naturally of a height, his boots and helmet brought him two inches taller than Hux. Kylo was adept at looming; Hux was sure he perfected that in the mirror, too. His breath hissed through the grating of the mask, pneumatic and scented with leather, when he said, “Take it off. Or give me the key. I won’t stand for this.”

It was too far. Too close to a demand, the sort of thing Kylo was expressly forbidden to do in private. Hux’s hand shot out and grabbed him between the legs. The cage was hard beneath the layers of Kylo’s robes, large and cruel enough that it didn’t fit quite properly into Hux’s palm, but he gave it a hard yank anyway. Kylo yelped, which was ridiculous in general but especially so through the mask, and buckled. Hux shook the cage, his other hand still tucked neatly behind his back, as Kylo folded around the assault. His shoulders hunched, and he grabbed Hux’s arm, but he didn’t try to pull away. He knew better.

“ _This_ ,” Hux said, leaning in so he could spit it low and sharp near Kylo’s head, “is my property. You don’t tell me when to unlock it or remove it. It stays where it is, because that’s where I want it to be. Comply, or you will dislike the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

Kylo made a noise like a sob, his fingers twisted in Hux’s sleeve. He was probably dripping wet under his robes, flushed and swollen from the weight of the cage swinging between his thighs all day, and Hux knew better than anyone how a little rough handling could turn him spineless as a doll. He shook the cage again. “I said, do I make myself clear?”

Kylo’s breath hitched. “A  _month_ ,” he gasped. “Hux, a  _month_ \--”

Hux snorted. “A month is nothing. This is not suffering, Ren. You have never known suffering. Speak to me again when you have completed three years of Imperial brute training, or spent eight months in a prisoner’s camp, or had a limb torn off and devoured before your eyes by a pack of gurrecks.” Hux stomped his left foot for emphasis. The prosthetic was immaculately designed and felt and looked nearly natural, but he enjoyed bringing it up occasionally to make Kylo squirm. Which he was doing now, although possibly for other reasons. “A month of denying your frankly appalling baser instincts will do you no harm, and in fact may do you some good.”

All the same, he gentled his touch just a bit, and rolled the cage, hefting it twice. Even through the robes, he felt Kylo’s cock jerk inside it. “This willful creature could stand a little taming, don’t you think?”

Kylo groaned, and his forehead dropped onto Hux’s arm. It was a lovely view, truth be told, Kylo bent nearly double in front of him (although facing an unusual way), his shoulders quaking and the stretch of his back entirely vulnerable. If Hux were so inclined, he might call it endearing. Appealing, certainly.

Perhaps that was why his voice came out softer than he intended when he said, “I’m already leaving you my ship, isn’t that enough?”

Kylo lifted his head. Hux couldn’t, of course, see his eyes through the mask, but he knew all the same how Kylo was looking at him. Watery-eyed, a little confused, beseeching. The same way he looked when Hux called him across the room for attention, but made him crawl the whole way.

“I’m coming back,” Hux said, although obviously that went without saying. “I have no doubt you will destroy many of my things in my absence, so let’s not add this to the list, hmm?” He gave the cage another little tug to illustrate, and let go.

Kylo stayed bowed for a lengthy moment, collecting himself, and then slowly straightened. A noise suspiciously like a sniffle came through the mask. He shook himself, and set his robes to rights. His feet shifted gingerly into a wide stance on the deck. “A  _month_ ,” he said again, but quietly, as though to himself.

Hux linked his hands together behind his back once more. “Of course,” he said, “the key is not the only way to free you. You possess a power greater than that, don’t you?” He arched a brow. “Surely someone as skilled as yourself in the ways of the Force would have no trouble overcoming paltry iron and locks?”

Kylo stared back at him, silent. Hux could nearly see the wheels spinning behind that ridiculous grill of metal.

“However,” he continued, sparing Kylo from exhausting his three functioning brain cells, “I think we both know how unpleasantly that would end for you.” He clicked his heels on the floor and nodded a quick, formal bow. “As always, Ren, I trust that your fine tactical mind and admirable self-control will win the day. If you’ll excuse me, I do in fact have a schedule to keep.”

He stepped around Kylo and headed back through the door into the hangar, spine straight and head high, despite the raging erection threatening to disrupt the line of his pants. No reason to start submitting to the whims of his body, now. After all, he had an entire month of suffering to prepare for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like there's going to be more of this, but they'll be one-shots unto themselves, so I'm going to leave this fic marked as complete anyway. (Aaaaand the rating will 100% go up.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so, I. Was ~*~inspired~*~ to write more a lot sooner than I thought I'd be. Still going to mark this fic as complete, because I think it stands alone, but there will probably be a couple more chapters. As the spirit moves me. 
> 
> 97% of this chapter can be blamed on some nerd named Elwin. 
> 
> Also, there's non-con in this one. Skip to the end notes for an explanation, if you'd like.

The collar was tight, but it wasn’t tight enough. Kylo had often thought so, but never said it aloud. Hux liked it loose enough to slide his fingers beneath it, to lead Kylo to bed by it. 

It was black and lustrous on the outside, but the inside was rough unfinished leather that rubbed Kylo’s neck raw. It was wide enough that it rested on his collarbones and pressed his adam's apple every time he swallowed. There was no adornment on it, no words or symbols. It was functional.

Kylo twisted his fingers beneath it at the nape of his neck and pulled. It choked him, digging into the soft flesh of his throat. His breath came faster, tighter. He shut his eyes before the dancing black spots began, and saw them instead as bright starbusts behind his lids. In his lap, his other hand moved faster.

His quarters were hot, and he was naked, cross-legged on the floor in front of the mirror, the lights dimmed. The only sounds were the rasp of his own breathing and the clink of the cage. It was so heavy between his legs, thick crude iron and a sturdy lock. He shook it harder, and gasped. His cock was swollen inside, as hard as it could get bent down and constricted like that, but the greatest cruelty of all were the barbs. They weren’t much, just small pointed ridges, but the harder his prick got, the sharper they dug in. It hurt, and only made him harder. It also made him more frustrated.

He let go of the collar, coughing, and opened his eyes. His vision was shadowed at the edges, swimming with phantoms. He lifted his cock and balls gingerly, and reached beneath them with his other hand. His hole was wet with oil, hot under his touch, hungry for the two fingers he slid inside. He fucked himself shallowly, pressing up, and his cock jerked in the cage, hurting itself. Kylo growled under his breath, meeting his own eyes in the mirror. He was flushed head to toe, sweating, his hair curling damp at his shoulders. His eyes were burning. He bared his teeth at himself, looking at his hard nipples and the gleam of the cage between his thighs, the awkward way his arm was bent to get at himself, the flex of his elbow.

He was desperate to come. It had been two weeks. Hux had been gone for two weeks, and he would be gone for another two, and Kylo wanted to die. He thought of nothing but his cock, of having orgasms. Every time his attention was diverted by tactical debriefings, or Snoke, or his daily meditation, it returned with more single-mindedness than before. The drape of his robe against his groin was too much to bear, pissing was agony, his katas were torture.

He squeezed the cage, gave it a vicious shake. It felt good, and it hurt terribly, and that was all he was reduced to. Hux had been right; his baser instincts were too strong, they ruled him. It was for that reason, and no other, that he refused to break the lock with the Force and tear the wretched contraption to pieces. It would take only a second, and he would be free of it, could stroke himself and finally have relief. But then he thought of the way Hux would look at him when he returned to the Finalizer and saw what Kylo had done, and the very idea of witnessing that smug and knowing condescension was beyond contemplation. He could endure. He would. He had to.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do other things. Or  _ try to _ . He’d been playing with himself for an hour tonight, getting nowhere. The first week, he hadn’t done even that. He’d been good, stern with himself. The beginning of the second week, he had touched himself more than necessary when he went to the bathroom, and rubbed against his mattress at night, and sometimes crossed his legs at the conference room table. Three days ago, he’d woken up rutting against his own hand, his palm wet with arousal, and it had been too much. He wanted to come.

His cock was wet again now, drooling clear fluid through the cage. He tasted it on his fingers, salty and thick. With his other hand, he pressed deeper inside himself, rubbing firm circles at the spot Hux’s cock hit so well when they fucked. His own prick throbbed, but dully. It wasn’t enough. He gave the cage a painful yank, frustrated, and let it go. He pulled his fingers out of himself, and that hurt too.

His robes were heaped on the floor behind him, and he pulled them on quickly, sloppily, grabbing his helmet from the table by the door. It felt terrible to put it on, his face too hot inside it, his breath stifled for a long second before the filters kicked in with a hiss.

Kylo smacked the panel by the door until it opened, and stuck his head out. The hall was nearly empty, but there were two troopers at the far end, blasters cradled loosely in the crooks of their arms. Kylo reached toward them with his mind, a messy extension of himself, distracted and off-center, and found that one was female.

“You!” he called, raising his arm to point at the other one. “Here.”

The troopers jumped, startled, and swiveled their heads first toward him, and then each other. The male took a tentative step forward. “Me, my lord?”

“Get over here,” Kylo snapped, and stepped back into his rooms. He clenched his bare fists, waiting. He wanted to punch the wall, so he did, twice. It made his knuckles bleed, but it didn’t help.

The trooper came hesitantly into view. “Sir?”

Kylo reached out with invisible hands and dragged him across the threshold, the door whooshing shut behind him. “Take off your armor.”

The trooper yelped, struggling instinctively against the Force. “I-- I’m sorry, sir--” he said, his blaster drooping in his frightened hands. “I don’t understand--”

“Take off your armor!” Kylo shouted. His voice was staticky with distortion through the helmet. “Or I will do it for you.” He gave a mental push the equivalent of a slap to get things going.

Obediently, shaking, the trooper dropped the blaster and started unbuckling his armor, peeling it off in pieces. Kylo watched, breathing fast. The trooper was smooth with muscle under his gear, and when his helmet came off, his face was not unpleasant either. It could not possibly have mattered less. “That too,” Kylo said, gesturing to the skintight black bodysuit the trooper wore. He turned away and went to the bed, got up on it on his knees and hiked his robes into his arms. “Come here,” he growled, and dropped down onto his elbows.

The trooper was panting, teeth chattering. Kylo heard him approach, bare feet on the thin carpet, and stop at the edge of the bed. Kylo put his head against the mattress and said, “Get up here and fuck me.”

There was no response, the trooper either shocked into silence or, just as likely, too stupid to understand what Kylo meant. These creatures were hardly better than animals, or children, raised in captivity and coddled like kennel hounds. Kylo craned his neck to see the trooper staring back at him, mouth open and eyes wide, dumbfounded.

Kylo snarled, lifted his hand and stretched it back, fingers extended. He narrowed his focus on the trooper’s racing mind, shredding down through the layers of fear and uncertainty to the place where it told him that this pathetic thing had never had sex before, and did not find the male form attractive. It didn’t matter; Kylo twisted, and the trooper bent.

He got up on the bed. Kylo watched his cock grow untouched from a small limp thing to an entirely decent length. Unbidden, Kylo’s mouth flushed with saliva. He turned his face back into the bed, panting hard through his own hot recycled air. “Put it in me,” he said.

The trooper obeyed. It went in easily, with how much Kylo had been frigging at himself, a good stretch, a thrilling fullness. Kylo groaned, arching his back. “In and out,” he gasped, because this wretched being was innocent in every way. “Fast.”

He didn’t even need to push with the Force, this time. The trooper thrust once, twice, and that did it. His body took over. There was no finesse to it, none of the torturous grinding langour of Hux’s technique, but it was fast and deep and rough and Kylo sobbed with how good it was. His cock swung in its cage between his thighs, dangling heavily, pulled from the root. The pain was shocking, and the pleasure moreso. He reached up beneath himself and held it, rolled the cage, slid the tip of his finger between the bars to rub at the damp head.

It was nearly enough, nearly. For long minutes it was  _ nearly _ , and then less so, and then much less, and by the time Kylo realized he was not going to come, it was sheer torment. His muscles were locked, shaking; he was slick everywhere with sweat, and the oil in his ass was drying out. The trooper was starting to make high panicked noises in the back of his throat, his rhythm stuttering, his cock sawing in and out.

Not for any reward in this life or the next was Kylo going to allow a dog to come before him. He shoved the trooper off him with the Force, going white hot with the pain of the fast withdrawal. The trooper fell backwards off the bed, crying out, and Kylo straightened to see him collapsed on the floor, cock chafed and red but still brutally erect. He stared up at Kylo in sheer confusion, chest heaving.

“Forget everything that has happened here,” Kylo spat. “Get out.” Before the trooper could even begin to obey, Kylo lifted one hand and threw him toward the door with the Force, his armor flying after him. They hit the door altogether in a heap, the trooper curling himself into a protective ball. “Out!” Kylo shouted, and ripped the door open so fast something inside broke with a burst of sparks. He shoved the trooper naked into the hall with enough strength that he hit the opposite wall and fell to the floor, and Kylo slammed the door after him.

He collapsed back onto the bed, tearing off his helmet. He pounded his fists against the bed, shouting into the blankets with rage and humiliation and frustration. He was so  _ hot _ all over, it pounded in his veins and his head, his cock. It was the heat of consuming rage, and it was the heat of arousal, and it was the heat of desperate longing desire. He wanted Hux, and he wanted him now. Nothing would be right until Hux returned. It was impossible. But Kylo could wait, he could do that. He could be good, and he could wait, and when Hux came home, there would be a reckoning. Kylo swore it to himself, furiously, over and over. He would survive this, and he would win.

Eventually, exhausted, he went limp against the bed, slumped in the damp sheets, one hand curled protectively around his cock. His mouth tasted of salt and tears, and his hair was plastered to his cheeks. Beneath his damp collar, his throat ached. His ass was still in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo forces (ha. sorry. it's not funny) a straight and virginal stormtrooper to fuck him, against the trooper's protests.


End file.
